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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29120586">Sunset.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/theobamallama/pseuds/theobamallama'>theobamallama</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hetalia: Axis Powers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Light Angst, M/M, mental escapism, thoughtful evenings, unmentioned pining but totally pining</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 05:13:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>643</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29120586</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/theobamallama/pseuds/theobamallama</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes the colors of the sunset paint the picture of who we wish to be.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>South Italy/Spain (Hetalia)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Sunset.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>[Human AU]</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lovino’s hand gently curled itself about the glass.  Its cold temperature sunk into his palm, and for a moment he found himself grounded back within the present.  He had found himself in an evening of which was terribly quiet about his home.  It was that feeling that was nearly, almost <em>surreal</em>.  And as Lovino sat at the table, his gaze heavily brushing over the sky beyond his window, he thought that he soon might become lost in a place that he wasn’t even sure existed.</p><p> </p><p>Yet, if one thing was for sure, it was that Lovino very much liked the twisting color of orange and yellow.  They splashed beautifully against cooler tints of blues and purple, the art from up above leaving him practically breathless.  Not many days did he find himself nearly so sentimental about something as such as the sky, but here in this moment he couldn’t help for wishes of drowning in it.  Perhaps the earth’s gravity could tilt <em>just for him</em> so then he could find himself falling, falling, <em>falling</em>…</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Lovino closed his eyes.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>The colors would fly about him leaving him recklessly abandoned from anything else in this life that he kept.  Yes, the colors would become like water and perhaps in the moment that the earth finally shifted back the way it would be, Lovino would re-appear as a piece of art himself.  As if he were only just an open canvas, begging to be brought to life by the hand of something so much more powerful than him.</p><p> </p><p>…</p><p> </p><p>Embarrassment soon came knocking on his heart. On his self-conscious.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Even though nobody else was here.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>And even then, no one could truly read his thoughts. Though there were times it seemed certain individuals <em>could</em>.  One in particular.</p><p> </p><p>A weak sort of grimace tugged at Lovino’s lips.  Though, if he were being honest with himself, then he would come to know that he didn’t mean it whatsoever.  Especially, when his heart began to feel a bit lighter.</p><p> </p><p>Yes, if Antonio were here, all it would take is a simple look.  A glance, and Antonio would know exactly where Lovino was.  How far he had traveled and the beautiful palette of color that had flew and flown across his vision.  <em>Antonio would be right there with him</em>. On this <em>voyage</em>.</p><p> </p><p>And then, Antonio would smile.  And they would be back to sitting at the table, yet again.  Maybe he would take to grasping his hand or gently resting his palm upon Lovino’s shoulder, but at that moment, Lovino would finally be able to zone back in.  To depart from the world he had created in his head, finding himself back again.  At first, Lovino would surely find an annoyance spark his person, thinking <em>how dare he take me away? How dare he drag me back?</em></p><p> </p><p>But then, it would hit him.  Lovino would soon realize that this space he created in his head…it had so many things, but <em>lacked so much more</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Why had he been so lost? Why had he <em>allowed </em>himself to become so lost when all this time, there was really, truly so much more in front of his eyes?</p><p> </p><p>Then, as if on cue, Lovino would be dragged into the expression Antonio found himself to make, and somehow, Antonio would so easily read the questions that were haunting Lovino’s mind, too.</p><p> </p><p>And then, Lovino might cry, he might laugh or maybe he would just stare, sitting in this fear he created of being so vulnerably <em>seen</em>.</p><p> </p><p>…</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Yet, Antonio wasn’t here, was he?</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>A sigh left Lovino’s lips, the soft release of air not removing any tension in his body, even though he wished it would have.  Finally, his hand released the glass he had been holding, whilst his eyes tore away from the sky.</p><p> </p><p>Yes, Lovino supposed it was just one of those nights.</p>
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